Gratia Magister
by Saccharo
Summary: Class Zero were never close with their teacher.  Some were afraid, some were neutral, and others only despise him.  Even with conflicting emotions, all of them share the same sadness when he finally went away.  Forever.


**There are barely any SAD one-shots! XP**

**I'm really not used to humor, but even though it's amusing to read a lot of funny fanfics, I wanted to see a sad one-shot. And when I mean sad, then I mean REALLY sad!**

**I think I'm not going to post any humorous stories for FFXIII Type-0, but rather sad ones. Seriously though—there aren't any stories that are so sad! XP**

**At first, I was going to start a one-shot involving Ace X Deuce (Too obsessed with them), but I just realized that there weren't any or little fanfics about Class Zero's awesome teacher. So I decided to give him a good role in this story.**

**Gratia Magister means "Grateful Teacher" in Latin. Also, this story will be told through different POVs, starting from Machina all the way to Ace (The order of POVs was really killing me. **

**Later, I'm going to start another one-shot (A sad one, too.), this time, about Trey and Cinque. I will also start some more one-shots for lonely couples (Eight X Cater, King X Sice, etc.).**

**XD)**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy! XD**

* * *

><p>"<em>Watch how you act. Don't be burdened by death; it will only burden others as well."<em>

Machina laid the wreath near the tall white stone, head bowing as he stood up, anxious to wipe his eyes when he could not. Around him, his allies' heads were bowed, most of the girls, including Rem, were crying. He bit his lip as he rubbed his childhood friend's head, resting his cheek on her as they stared at the stone.

How he hated it.

It was something, a sight that they all had become too familiar with. They had seen that with different and same times and people, but the effect remained unchanged, never gone. When there was blood, there was always death. What an evil sign.

First his brother, Izana, and now… now…

Who else did he have to turn to? Death was a reminder—a reminder that he, too, will die along with Rem, Ace, and everyone else. They all would join their beloved, deceased ones, or maybe… something worse than hell itself.

He didn't care. Didn't it hurt to die? What was it like to get hurt and die?

Why was he afraid to get hurt?

Burdened with the pain, the sorrow, he let out a heartbroken moan as he grasped Rem, head buried under brownish-violet locks.

* * *

><p>"<em>These are our new students, Rem Tokimiya and Machina Kunagiri."<em>

Rem cringed as Machina suddenly hugged her, but she instantly soothed down as he started breaking down, feeling warm tears sliding down the back of her neck. As much as she wanted to soothe him, she knew that she could not.

This was so familiar to her yet the hurt, the pain, never dissipated. However, this… was the worst. A garden outside the magic school, a crowd consisting of just her friends and allies, everyone dressed in black clothing—it was so familiar. She felt her eyes twitching, lungs unable to register air. It was like there was water or holes in her organs and she could not breathe.

The words engraved on the white stone, the numerous, colorful flowers near it—she just wanted to forget about it. It shouldn't hurt that much, right?

She had seen Izana's grave and a crying Machina, but it didn't hurt her. No—what hurt her most was how Machina was acting. Like a knife had twisted in her heart, she felt like she had died. She felt like dying… because someone else was going to die.

Deaths were common; Class Zero had all seen it. Monsters, humans, robots—they practically seen every living and mechanical things die! Blood or bolts—it didn't care for them. But what about families? The people—the soldiers they had killed—Rem finally understands what it feels to lose someone beloved.

Life was truly unfair.

* * *

><p>"<em>Don't practice too much. Pace yourself and your determination."<em>

King wasn't stupid. No—sure there were times when he would actually do something _stupid_, but they weren't as funny or silly as Nine's or Jack's actions. He trained all day, practicing his guns, grenades, everything.

He had sworn that crying was a "sissy" stuff. He called tears weak, a sign of mental breakdown or weakness. Even with his comrades crying, were they considered "sissy" when, in fact, every day, they had battled against military forces and nearly eaten by dragons?

So why was _he _crying?

Tears, crying—anything related to those words were stupid. Very stupid.

Only babies and weaklings are allowed to cry. But he had heard that, was it not true that strong ones, who hold in their tears, would only suffer more pain? Weren't strong ones considered to be "sissy"? Weren't strong ones weak when they cry?

King realized—everyone isn't strong. He thrives—wishes to become the strongest, but yet… it hurts too much. Everyone, was in fact, weak.

He, too, was weak.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm depending on you. After all, you are the Class President."<em>

She was a leader. A strong and brave leader. She never wavers from death.

She was the leader. Like a wolf's leader, she must guide her pack. She must tutor them, make them learn and know the dangers of the world.

Her leader… had died.

Without a leader, they—Class Zero—would have to organize and elect a new leader. Without a leader, they would be blind, weak, and brainless like newborn babies. Without a leader, they would all _die_.

Her leader… trusted her, depended on her to guide her group, protect them as a mother would. But why? Why must she be burdened with this job? Why was she chosen to become their leader? What happens if she fails? What happens if she screws up and ends up taking all of them to their deaths?

A leader wouldn't think that… right…?

Wiping her glasses and eyes, she looked at the grave, putting on a brave, defiant face. She wasn't going to fail her leader; she had to guide her pack.

Like a wolf, she will lead them.

* * *

><p>"<em>Detention, Jack. You and Nine will be sharing different rooms tonight."<em>

He had heard similar words before. He wanted to hear them again.

To hear them, to know that his instructor was annoyed. Jack was more than amused; he was happy to hear the older man irritated. He wanted to hear more "detentions". He wanted to let his teacher know that he got in mischief again.

He wanted to hear those words… because he was always with Class Zero.

In the past, getting caught by the annoying damn Tonberry was really stupid. He remember in the past how all his classmates got in trouble: Ace was caught gawking at Deuce, "Dense" Deuce dozing off, Trey talking too long, Cinque with her makeup, Cater for creating a mess, Sice for talking back at the teacher, Seven whipping Jack, Eight accidently punching a table, Nine for trying to read porn magazines, Queen studying too hard, King being late to class due to practice, Rem and Machina would be gone for sometimes…

Getting caught by the teacher and his beloved pet was funny.

Not getting caught by them wasn't funny.

He wiped his forehead, pretending that he was wiping away sweat due to the harsh sunlight when, in fact, he was wiping another type of water.

* * *

><p>"<em>Nine… you're cleaning up the Chocobos' stables later."<em>

It wasn't fun to clean up shit; everyone knew that. Even though Nine doesn't mind getting in trouble most of the times, he really didn't enjoy cleaning up Chocobos' poops. Listening to his teacher's boring instructions and lessons wasn't suited for him. Instead, he wanted to grab some innocent girls' butts, read his famous porn, or even tease Ace about "Dense" Deuce! That way, it would be more exciting! Even if he does get embarrassed by getting caught, he still doesn't mind.

Sometimes, he wants to hear the teacher say something harsh to him.

That way, Nine could tell whether or not he was in trouble. He didn't mind getting annoyed by his teacher; it was his daily routine in class. Even if he tries to grope a certain black-haired teen, he doesn't mind if his teacher notices. Of course, he would instantly panic if he sees the Tonberry brandishing its small yet dangerous knife at him. In fact, Nine wondered if the little green monster ever killed anyone before.

But sadly, the Tonberry won't be told to stop any students. Ever.

Without the teacher, Nine wouldn't get in trouble. It should've been a joyful moment for him and he could be jumping up and down like a rabbit. Whenever the teacher and\or the Tonberry aren't around, Nine could do anything he wants! Grope girls' chests and butts, or read his porn, or check out what color Rem's underwear are (Much to Machina's anger.).

Without the teacher, there will be no one to scold Nine.

And the pain was unexpected as he expected.

* * *

><p>"<em>Watch your back. You may never know when an enemy will hit you."<em>

Eight was the sharpest in all of Class Zero. His eyes were similar to an eagle's and he could detect any movement the fastest. That's why he watches his back. That's why he always be careful about his surroundings.

To protect his beloved ones and innocent people.

That was Class Zero's job, right? To defend innocent living things, even from other people. They were pretty much all murderers; they all had killed uncountable men. Even Deuce kills a lot of people with just one flute.

They kill just to protect another.

With Eight's sight, he can be able to strike at any sight of enemy. He will fight to the bitter end in order to protect others.

If he could only sense the future, then he might have been able to stop the instructor's death.

If he had only foreseen the future, then he could've done anything to stop his death. Even right now, in this sorrowful moment and place, he would travel back in time and prevent him from his fate. Whenever someone dies, wouldn't other mourners feel the same? Wouldn't they want to go to the past and stop death?

No—it would only mess up time. As much as he hated it, Eight knew that he cannot change what has been done, even if he does have the power to travel back in time. He regrets it. Of all people, why did his teacher have to die when there were other evil, cold-hearted people out there, murdering and stealing? Those people deserve to die, don't they?

Gods are so cruel or they may not even exist at all.

* * *

><p>"<em>Don't get careless. Stay calm, stay reserved."<em>

Oh yes—Seven was always calm. She never hesitates or rushes in battle—she remains calm. She never worries or thinks too quickly. She stays patient, waiting for an opportunity, an opening. Panic was only a burden and she would lose focus.

Even when she's injured, she remains reticent. She mustn't worry too much or else she'll face more than just a wound.

What about being vigilant in front of her teacher's grave?

She shouldn't be careless—it would only hurt her more than she expects. But in front of this tall, sorrowful stone, she couldn't think. Nor could she be silent. She wanted to do something—anything to bring the person buried her back alive. Even though her mouth was clamped shut, she wanted to rush. Resurrect the dead person.

But that could never happen.

She can't stay calm—someone close to her and Class Zero practically died! Because of that, she couldn't stay focused. She couldn't say anything, even though she wanted to. Strange though—she never hesitates to speak or move. Imagine—the great, heroic Seven was cowering just because of a rock in front of her.

It seemed pathetic and yet…

She was actually saying something; it was only her heart wailing.

* * *

><p>"<em>Shouldn't you be more careful? Think before you act."<em>

Sice had heard him say similar words to Seven. Of course—she was rather rash with her actions and words. She hated anyone who would talk back at her—it pissed her off a lot. She especially hated it when her instructor would always scold her for retorting.

She wanted to hate him yet she couldn't.

He was her—no—Class Zero's teacher. He trained them—taught them to fight and defend their nation. All of them had their own personal problems with him—Nine would get caught trying to seduce some innocent girls, Cinque would get caught trying to put on more makeup…

Of course, Sice always get herself in trouble for talking back.

She hated the way he treats her—it was disrespectful and annoying. Even if he's stronger and smarter than her, she felt like a baby being yelled at by her parent. He wasn't a parent—he was like a master whipping his slave. Sice always wished for her teacher to disappear or even get killed.

And he did.

Was it because that she had prayed for his death? Or was it because of her hatred when it really wasn't hatred? He would betray her—give her detention or talk to her in private, scolding her for her attitude. She didn't care though—it was quite common. Out of all of Class Zero, she had the most arguments with him. Just because of talking back to him.

But now, her mind couldn't comprehend. No—she couldn't think or even breathe. He was there, underneath some dirt and a rock.

How she missed hating him.

* * *

><p>"<em>If you're going to use makeup, please do it in the bathroom."<em>

Yes—Cinque was weird. She was the stranger in Class Zero, always saying random stuff like how big Rem's chest was or how "big" King was. She always would put on makeup whenever the teacher wasn't looking and always, the Tonberry would eventually snatch it.

Every day. Every day.

Every day, she would see her classmates. Every day, she would see the Tonberry. Every day, she would see their instructor.

This day, she saw everything except for him.

It was like a new sensation in her, awakening her heart. Like fire and ice, she was heating up when she was actually cold. She couldn't understand the feeling and she had never encountered it before.

But by staring at the grave, why did her fingers twitch? Why were her toes curling underneath her shoes? Why was her face pink? Why was she crying?

But most of all—what was that feeling? Attacking her right now?

Everyone was crying; even King and Sice were sobbing. Deuce was placing another bouquet of flowers before rushing to Seven, hugging her. They were both wailing.

So that was the feeling she and everyone else were feeling. For once, she wasn't weird. She was normal.

Because they were all sad.

* * *

><p>"<em>This isn't like King's guns. You must concentrate your magic."<em>

Concentrate.

How can Cater do that when she was crying over his dead body?

Every time she does focus, she would get distracted. No—it's not like one of those times when Ace would ask "Dense" Deuce out when she was watching a butterfly go past her. No—when Cater concentrates, she would get distracted by the slightest sound. Of course, Eight would just scoff that it was only a bug or something and that irritated her.

She couldn't think. She couldn't even blink.

She was distracted and concentrating on the same thing.

There she was, with Class Zero, weeping over their instructor's body. The suits that they were wearing only seemed to make it worse and as much as she wanted to take it off—

She was getting distracted.

She must focus.

But how can she focus in this situation? Her teacher was dead for crying out loud! It confused her and distracted her too much. This problem was completely strange to her and she couldn't focus.

She wanted to get distracted so that she wouldn't have to mourn or cry. She wanted to concentrate in order to register the thought.

Her heart broke.

* * *

><p>"<em>Be careful of how many arrows you're wasting."<em>

That was it?

Trey and his teacher were only acquaintances. He never known him a lot, but he was his teacher. They weren't awkward with each other, but they weren't certainly close. Some students also feel the same way, but they had more problems with him such as Nine and Sice.

Trey doesn't even bother to start a conversation with him.

Now he does.

Trey was popular, wasn't he? For his big mouth. He would always get in trouble just because of talking too much. But he never talks privately with him like Sice. Oh no—they had their own problems.

They would never talk.

He would always give the archer a few tips, detentions, and greetings. No conversations. Nothing.

Trey loved to talk; it was his best (and annoying) skill. However, he was very chatty and he knew that others are offended just because of him.

He wanted to talk with his teacher more.

Tell him how grateful he was, how happy he was, and maybe even gossip.

Too late; he was being quiet for a really long time and that was his first.

* * *

><p>"<em>Deuce… please sleep early next time…"<em>

Deuce was a very heavy sleeper. It was usually Seven who would always stay alert; they do share the same dorms together.

But Deuce was like a little girl. She would always get nightmares about some random things, such as the common joke "Seven Eight Nine". In her dream, it was Seven who "ate" Nine and she didn't know what the problem was (Everyone else would turn away).

Today, she was going to have another nightmare. A really bad one.

Whenever she would kill a soldier or monster in battle, it was like they just came alive in her dreams. All bloodied up, gored, bones sticking out—

She didn't want to see it.

But seeing _this _was ten times worse than any of her nightmares.

She was a killer along with Class Zero. After all, their job was to defend their nation, even if it means killing anyone in their way. Seeing those bloody moments—it practically petrified her.

The moment she actually saw the teacher's body, all white, all pale, his eyes closed—it was too horrible. Of course, she had seen worse such as broken bones and headless corpses, but she actually saw her teacher. _Dead_.

That body was actually the same person that had taught Class Zero, to fight and defend the nation. That body was really the teacher's.

That body was never going to come back.

Alive.

* * *

><p>"<em>I won't forgive you if you die."<em>

Ace could never forget his words.

Of course, Ace was, out of all of Class Zero, to have the most conversations with their teacher. Mostly about what the nations would do or something like that. Nevertheless, they still talked to each other.

And who would Ace talk to about the same topic?

No one would ever believe for Class Zero's instructor to be killed so easily—he graduated from the same magic school and was the best of the best. Ace and Class Zero had seen him in battle; he would strike his enemies in a flash and he wouldn't get touched by them as well. If Class Zero had to battle him, then they would lose in a second.

But today, their teacher had failed.

He's dead.

He wasn't very social or close with Class Zero at all. No—he treated them like acquaintances, people that aren't too close or too cold to each other. Sometimes he would get into arguments with people such as Sice or Nine. Or he would give them detention for doing "bad" things in his class, such as Nine trying to grope Queen's ass, or Sice retorting, or Jack doodling in his book…

That was it? That was the only things that he did for Class Zero?

No—he did more than that. He taught them to fight and defend the nation. Without him, Class Zero would not be able to fight their enemies.

Without him, what will they do?

* * *

><p>"<em>Thanks a lot; I really appreciate it."<em>

The Tonberry was the closest to their teacher—Class Zero knew that. Of course, the Tonberry never expected for his beloved master to just simply die; it was truly unexpected and heartbreaking. He was taking the pain too much, more than all of the class.

Why though? There were other people that did gruesome things than he had done and why were they in jail when his master was dead? Those people deserved to die—not the teacher!

The Tonberry had feelings, of course.

Everyone was crying; even Nine and Sice were sobbing. He understood how they felt.

Their teacher was very brave to die. Their teacher had done everything to teach them and train them. Together, they were invincible. Rubrum would eventually have to assign a new teacher to Class Zero and even though the Tonberry was feeling nervous, he knew that he must put on a brave face.

Just like his master.

He placed his master's sword along the bouquets of flowers, its blade shining under the light. He didn't want to keep the weapon; it belonged to his master. All around him, the sobs seemed to get louder and louder. But to the Tonberry, he knew that the students were hurt. Yet, sooner or later, they'll get over it, but the pain will never diminish. To him, he could already see Class Zero, weapons high in the air, chins up, and eyes undaunted.

Because his master will always be with them, no matter what.

_Wait for me, master. I will come to you and we will finally reunite. Wait for me._

"G-Gratia Magister…" Queen spoke nervously, wiping her glasses with her sleeves, "Gratia… Magister…"

Everyone stared at her before staring at the gravestone, eyes viewing the rock.

"Gratia Magister… Gratia Magister…" They all said in a chorus, voices cracking, "Gratia Magister… Gratia Magister… Gratia Magister!"

They were all mortified, but even with tears and painful expressions, they continued saying "Gratia Magister" together. Because they weren't able to say those words.

They were grateful for a grateful teacher. Even the Tonberry wanted to cry.

_Yes, master. Thank you… thank you for being a Gratia Magister…_

_Kurasame._


End file.
